


Strings

by SilveryBeing



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: M/M, Original Characters - Freeform, Sex, Vore, body transformation, one of us au, original dimensions, world building
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 16:27:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9829472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilveryBeing/pseuds/SilveryBeing
Summary: Bill decides to gift Ford with some of his powers. But that might not be enough for Ford.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Swiftblight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Swiftblight/gifts).



> This was a gift fic for Swiftboone on tumblr for Secret Santa. I know its late but I moved during that time so I needed the extension.

 

The banners fluttered in the non-existent wind, their presence a reminder and mockery of Ford’s folly.

 

_“Bill's only weak in the mind space. If I didn't have this darn plate in my head we could just erase him with the memory gun when he steps inside my mind.”_

 

_“What if he goes into my mind? My brain isn't good for anything.”_

 

_“Heheh. There's nothing in your mind he wants. It has to be me. We need to take his deal. It's the only way he'll agree to save you and the kids.”_

 

_“Do you really think he's gonna make good on that deal?”_

 

_“What other choice do we have?”_

 

There was no other choice.

 

_“What if we switched places? I’ve practiced being you for 30 years, I could fool that triangle into going into my head and they you hit me with the memory gun. I don’t think I’d miss most of my memories.”_

 

_“It would never work. I know Bill and unfortunately he knows my mind. He’d pick up the deception before you could even blink.”_

 

What did Stan know anyways? He was a cheat and a fraud, he didn’t have the mind or experience to go toe to angle with someone like Bill. This was something only Ford could do.

 

_“Alright Bill. You win.”_

 

_“Oh I was always winning but it’s nice that you are finally on the same page.”_

 

_“I’ll join you Bill and give you the code but in exchange I want you to guarantee the kids and my brothers safety.”_

 

It was the only way.

 

_“Don’t look so glum Sixer. You said you wanted them safe and they are safe! Heck I even put them with their friends cause I’m such a nice guy.”_

 

_“No! This isn’t what I meant! I wanted them to be free, not trapped in the banners!”_

 

_“Oh you fleshlings never know what you want. If I let them free you’d cry about them being destroyed with the rest of their puny dimension. Oh don’t give me that look, you know it’s true.”_

 

And the worst part about it was that it was true.

 

_“They’ll be hanging around for the rest of eternity, just like you wanted. And I got the code, just like I wanted. So it’s been a win-win sort of day all around wouldn’t you say?”_

 

_“You’re a monster!”_

 

_“No. You are. In case you’ve forgotten but joining my side does have its perks. So I wouldn’t stay attached to that fleshy prison you call a body. Time punch?”_

 

Ford watched the banners with a gnawing bitterness in his stomach. This wasn’t his fault. It was Bill’s. It was Bill’s fault for putting him in this situation. It was Bill’s fault for purposefully misinterpreting what Ford wanted. It was Bill’s fault for generating wind where there wasn’t any to draw attention to those damned banners!

 

And Ford would not let Bill get away with this. Somehow he would figure out how to free his family, even if he had to play nice with the triangle to do so.

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

There was no way to tell how much time has passed since Weirdmageddon. Time had lost meaning when Bill took over, and it lost the rest of what it had when the dimension collapsed, unable to hold up under the strain of Bill’s brand of godhood.

 

Everything was gone. All the distant galaxies humankind never got to travel to, the crumbling cores of formerly bright stars now hung dead and cold in the darkness, and Earth…

 

Ford looked out on what he could only assume was Earth. Or at least the space it used to occupy. Sometimes his eyes tricked him into seeing faint outlines of broken continents or the faintest sliver of the moon, but any attempt to verify was met with only empty blackness.

 

“What are ya still moping around for?” Came an aggravated voice from behind that Ford recognized came from 8-Ball. “You’re one of us now. What ya to be upset about?”

 

“Leave him alone,” Pyronica said. “He’s a boring wet blanket. And I hate wet blankets. Don’t know what Bill ever saw in him. We don’t need some former human to have fun, let’s go.” As if on cue that grating noise they called music started up anew.

 

Ford’s jaw tightened at her ‘former human’ comment. In his mind there was no ‘former’ about him. He was still as human now as he was during Weirdmageddon. There was just some slight...changes. Chitin started to grow in patches on his skin, turning it from soft and pink to hard and slightly iridescent.  But that didn’t mean anything. He was still human in _appearance_ and he assumed he was still human on the inside.

 

“I’m not a monster,” he growled to himself.

 

“What was that my pet?” Bill crooned from over Ford’s shoulder.

 

Ford wasn’t even surprised by the triangle’s sudden appearance. Bill was the god of this dimension, popping up randomly in his own Fearamid was child’s play.

 

“Nothing,” Ford answered.

 

“Aw don’t be like Fordsey,” Bill cooed and ruffled Ford’s hair.

 

“No I mean literally nothing,” Ford sharply gestured towards the window to the nothingness outside.

 

Bill’s eye followed Ford’s motion before he burst out laughing. “Oh! Oh that’s a good one! And here I thought you lost your sense of humor. When did you become so funny Sixer?”

 

“I didn’t. What I mean is that we are still here, floating around in nothingness. Can’t we just, I don’t know, go somewhere else?” Somewhere that didn’t remind him of his mistake.

 

“Nah.” Bill said without giving it much thought. “You know how long I’ve been trying to get into this dimension? Let a guy revel in his victory. I just made some fresh time punch!”

 

‘Some victory,’ Ford thought. ‘You destroyed everything you touched.’

 

“Now,” Bill continued, his voice parental and condescending. “Let’s get you back to the party. I know you are itching to explore more of the multiverse but I think you deserve a breather. 30 years is a long time for a human.” Bill then tugged at the collar of Ford’s turtleneck, revealing the spreading iridescent chitin. “Not that you will have to worry about that for much longer.” He released the collar, causing it to unnaturally snap painfully.

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ford rubbed the side of his neck, his fingers finding the edge of his natural skin and the new growth.

 

“Denial doesn’t look good on you Sixer. I just can’t wait to see your final form. Think you’ll get some antennae? I’m personally rooting for a pair of wings, you’ll need it to keep up with us.”

 

Ford had enough. He stomped away from Bill, away from the loud music, away from the time punch and towards the deeper recesses of the Fearamid.

 

Bill watched him go with an amused chuckle.

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Ford wandered through the Fearamid, the hallway leading him twisting and turning through the building. He needed to clear his head, his aggravation was not getting him any closer to his goals. He was supposed to be figuring out a way to release his family, not storming off from the most powerful being in this dimension who could conceivably fix this problem if so inclined.

 

“Think think. Come on Ford, thinking is what you are supposed to be good at.” He rubbed his temples, trying to keep his growing headache at bay.

 

Not for the first time he wished there was more to the Fearamid than the long endless hallways and the occasional window gazing out into nothingness. There were no rooms or forked paths to distract the mind, just endless rows of endless bricks. And they all led back to…

 

“There are you Sixer,” Bill waggled his fingers in greeting from atop his throne. “Have you gotten that little pouty session out of your system?”

 

Ford felt his headache come on again.

 

The music of the throne room had been cranked up to deafening and the lights were flashing in colors his still human brain struggled to comprehend. The henchmaniacs only gave him withering glances as he passed, looks he remembered from college that warned him against ruining their fun.

 

Bill though was delighted to see Ford. “Come sit up here my pet,” he patted the petrified bodies next to him that formed his throne. “I’ve just been so busy lately that I’m afraid we haven’t had time to touch base at all.”

 

Ford had half a mind to turn and walk away, but he had to remain in Bill’s good graces and soon he found himself scaling the giant throne and trying not to look at his hand holds. The throne was huge and Bill’s physical form even more so

 

“Now,” Bill started once Ford was seated next to him with his most patronizing tone, “Our friends have been telling me than you are having a hard time adjusting being a part of the gang.” An edge creeped into Bill’s voice, a warning that he was not going to tolerate any attitude.

 

Shit, what could he say to make this better? A faint voice in the back of Ford’s head said that Stan would not have been tongue tied.

 

But Bill never gave him a chance to respond. “Thought perhaps you feel put out? Like you were not duly rewarded for your services?”

 

Ford’s brain grinded trying to come up with a response. “You gave me quite a bit already.” It wasn’t a lie.

 

“You’re right, I did.” Bill put a hand on Ford’s shoulder, or at least that was the gesture as his hand practically engulped the human. “But you have gone the extra mile and provided me with some true entertainment over the years.”

 

Ford could only bite his tongue.

 

“So maybe,” Bill continued. “You should have a little reward.”

 

Ford sat up straighter. “Really? I can ask for anything?”

 

“Ahahaha. Of course not.” Bill deadpanned. “But I can’t have my favorite pet be a complete weakling now can we. I think I can spare a fraction of my power to give to you?”

 

“Really?” Ford said in amazement. Bill was going to share his power? Was this enough? Could he undo what Bill had done to him and his family?

 

“I know, I’m touched by my generosity too.” He patted his knee. “Now get up here so I can give it to you.”

 

Ford did not even hesitate, the prospect of even having a little power dulled any sense of caution. He straddled Bill’s leg, not sure how the process of sharing power worked.

 

Bill though seemed as amused as ever. He pressed one of his large fingers against Ford’s lips, trying to part them.  
  
Ford instinctively jerked back in surprise. “What-”

 

“Do not,” Bill’s voice dropped to danger levels, “make me rescind my generosity.”

 

Ford quickly opened his mouth and was quickly filled with Bill’s finger, large enough to make his jaw ache. It might have been the largest thing Ford had ever put in his mouth.

 

“Now suck.” There was no joking or humor in Bill’s voice.

 

Ford did as he was told. He sucked down on Bill’s finger, running his tongue underneath. A feeling like smoke began to trickle down his throat, slowly at first. He started to feel small sparks burst within his body, the jolts heading straight down between his legs.

 

“That’s it,” Bill urged. “You want all of it right?”

 

Ford shivered at the sound of Bill’s voice and sucked down harder, bringing more smoke into his throat. The dull pain in his jaw was nothing compared to the feeling of the power that flowed through his veins. The sparks grew more numerous, crackling throughout his body.

 

“That’s a good pet,” Bill’s voice was now a low croon.

 

Ford felt the front of his pants grow tighter and he fumbled helplessly with the zipper, but the electric feeling throughout his body made his hands useless. All he could do was grind against Bill.

 

The smoke continued to fill him and yet he still greedily sucked it down. He wanted more. He wanted it all. Every vapor he wanted within him.

 

His grinding became more and more insistent, bucking and thrusting with no care that anyone in the throne room could see. He tried to moan, tried to beg Bill for more, but the finger was too big to allow for any sounds of pleasure. He felt the sparks starting to build below his stomach, a tight coil of anticipation.

 

“That’s right,” Bill whispered, his voice purring in Ford’s ear. “This is all for you, only you.”

 

The sparks suddenly snapped like a lightning whip, causing Ford’s body to spasm as he came, the front of his pants staining.

 

Bill pulled his finger from Ford’s mouth, blowing on it like it was a spent gun. “And that is only a fraction of my power. Consider yourself lucky Sixer than I even gave you that.”

 

Ford could only slump against Bill’s bricks, his breath heavy and his mind like mush. But he could still feel the residual electricity in his body. His limbs jerked slightly as his muscles tried to make sense of Bill’s power.

 

“I do have that effect on people,” Bill said when he noticed that Ford was too incoherent to respond. “I suppose it’s the least I could do as your generous god to let you stay up here with me for now and be a good pet.”

 

Ford still had no energy to respond, but he had to admit that the stroking pets felt nice.

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Some time had past since Ford received some of Bill’s power. Maybe what he would have once called a few days, but it was impossible to know for sure.

 

The electric feeling in his veins had calmed to a barely discernible hum. He definitely felt different: stronger, more alert, and his surroundings appeared in such sharp detail he had no need for his glasses. Ford felt as if he had woken up from a long refreshing sleep, a sensation that was as alien to him as his new powers.

 

And his new powers were something he was trying to get used too. He could feel them right there under his skin, but aside from levitation they fell from his grasp. And Ford blamed that mostly on the fact there wasn’t much to practice _with_. Sure he could move a punch bowl, but there wasn’t much else in the Fearamid. Bill’s penthouse was mysteriously off the map and there was nothing else but endless hallways of brick that eventually would lead back to the throne room, whether or not it made sense for them to do so.

 

And if he couldn’t figure out what he could do with his new abilities how could he ever free his family?

 

And so Ford found himself yet again at the base of Bill’s giant throne, craning his neck back to see the glowing triangle god upon it. “Bill?”

 

“Hm?” Bill looked down in an almost lazy fashion. “How are you finding your new powers? Didn’t affect your appearance to much. You might not need those wings after all.”

 

Ford tried to ignore the sudden itching at the growing edge of his chitin and instead focused on Bill’s eye. “That’s the problem. I don’t know anything about my new powers, there is no where I can go to practice. Can’t something be done so I can at least learn?”

 

“Yeesh, still as humanly impatient as ever.” Bill materialized a glass and delicately sipped some time punch whose colors still made Ford’s eyes hurt.

 

“I’m being serious Bill. There isn’t even a library in this place so I can read up on these so called powers.”

 

Bill spat out the liquid with a laugh, the splatter melting part of the floor before it regrew again. “A library? What are you a square? What could you possibly need a library for?”

 

Ford bristled at the laugh. “To learn of course!” A thought struck him. “I’ve always been about learning. Remember?” How could Bill forget? They met over Ford’s desire to learn and Bill had taught him more than he ever thought possible, no matter how poisoned that well became.

 

Bill rolled his single eye. “And here I was hoping that with infinite knowledge within your reach you’d stop being such a nerd. Boooring!”

 

A million words tried to claim Ford’s voice at the same time, causing him to sputter in outrage until finally he managed to croak out an “Infinite knowledge?”

 

Bill took another leisurely sip of his drink. “Indeed. All in here my pet.” His eye started to flash with images to fast for Ford to process before returning to normal. “So what do you need nerdy old books for when you have moi?”

 

This was not what Ford wanted. There was no way Bill was going to show him how to undo the banners. But maybe he could learn enough to do it on his own. There wasn’t any other choice. “Fine. Will you tell me how to use my powers?”

 

“Nah,” Bill said breezily, finishing his drink and tossing his glass where it oozed against the wall. “That was always your problem Sixer, you always want the answers now now now. I think it will be more fun to watch you figure it out on your own. You always were a great source of entertainment.”

 

Some small part of Ford wasn’t surprised. Was it really out of character for Bill’s gifts to come with strings attached? Or in this case, strings needing to be re-tied before it could work properly? A useless gift.

 

But mostly he was filled with burning rage and shame, but he didn’t know if it was at Bill or himself. All he could do was turn and storm away from Bill towards the looping halls of the Fearamid.

 

“Ah, another human temper tantrum? Can’t wait till you grow out of that.” Bill’s voice echoed on Ford’s back.

 

He considered snapping something back at the triangle, but his feet were already set on their course to nowhere. What he wouldn’t give to get out of this dimension. He was no better than a prisoner here.

 

“H-hey Ford?” A timid voice came from behind him.

 

Ford stopped so suddenly that something, or someone, collided with him, sending him to the floor.

 

“Shit! I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” the owner of the voice tugged at Ford’s arm, trying to get him up.

 

Ford’s previous anger had vanished out of the surprise of a dark grey diamond with buck teeth trying to help him to his feet. “It’s okay, I’m fine. Uh, Kryptos right?”

 

Kryptos busied himself with brushing off Ford’s coat before answering. “Yeah, that’s me. I couldn’t help but overhear you back in there. With Bill.”

 

Ford had kinda forgotten about the henchmanics almost entirely, they were always in the throne room and had faded back into the wallpaper as far as Ford was concerned. But one of them giving him attention made him realize that they could see everything. Literally everything. Ford’s face burned when he remember Bill sharing his power. “God god, you even saw…with Bill...”

 

“Oh that? Yeah, Bill likes to come up silly different ways when giving gifts. Like he made me walk on my head for a year when he first pulled me into the third dimension. That jokester.” He chuckled at the memory before looking concerned. “Are you feeling okay? Your face is turning red. Is that normal for a human?”

 

Ford rubbed at his face as if he could wipe his embarrassment away. “Its nothing. What was it you wanted?”

 

“Well, I heard you were looking for a library. Right?”

 

Ford stared at the shape. He wanted a lot more than a library, but finding one would help him reach that. “Do you know of one?”

 

“Of course I do! If you are aligned with a powerful being like Bill, you have to know about the Atheneum. It’s where the collective knowledge of the multiverse is stored! If anything could teach you about your new powers, you’d find it there.”

 

“Perfect! Where is it?” Ford looked down the hall, expecting a door to suddenly appear.

 

“Oh no, it’s not in the Fearmid.” Kryptos laughed. “It’s a pocket dimension, you have use your powers to go there.”

 

“I can travel to different dimensions now?”

 

“No no, not dimension. A _pocket_ dimension. Its different. If you could use your powers to just travel to any dimension willy-nilly Bill wouldn’t have needed you to build that contraption. A pocket dimension is a lot easier to get to. Here, let me show you what to do. Draw this symbol.”

 

Kryptos used his finger to draw in midair. To Ford’s amazement, a light trail followed the pattern and hovered in front of him. The design wasn’t overly complicated and before long a circular opening appeared. Kryptos swiped the symbol away, closing the portal before Ford could get a good look at what was beyond it.

 

“And when you are ready to come back, just make the same symbol but draw it in reverse. Easy peasy!” Kryptos smiled up at him, radiating pride at being helpful.

 

“Thank you,” Ford said before staring at his hand. This was it. This is what he needed to do. He drew the symbol, the light trail appears just as it did for Kryptos. Once it was completed a portal opened before him, a colorful sky of stars and cloud inviting him.

 

He did not hesitate to answer that invitation.

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The first thing Ford met was a warm fog and cobblestones under his feet. After being surrounded by nothing but brick, Ford couldn’t help bending down and running his fingers over the stone and feeling the rich soil between them. He felt his eyes prick as he rubbed the dirt between his fingers. Such a simple thing…

 

“I need to focus,” he said to himself as he rubbed his eyes. Being sentimental wouldn’t get him what he wanted here, let alone lead him out of the fog.

 

The cobblestones lead straight ahead and due to some ever present light he could see that many of the stones contained crude carvings. He didn’t recognize the symbols but they were worn deep. Beyond the mist on either side of him, Ford could see grass and faint outlines of trees. What was curious to him was that the grass and leaves seemed to flicker, as if each piece held a hundred tiny diodes that blinked in a regular colorful pattern. As much as he wanted to run off and examine the lights more closely, thirty years of dimensional hopping told him it was better to stay on the laid out path.

 

And so he followed the cobblestones, wondering when he’d reach this library. The path did not twist and turn in confusing patterns like the halls of the Fearamid and there was a slight breeze in the air. It was nice. So much nicer than anything he experienced in a long while. If he closed his eyes he could just imagine he was in Gravity Falls long before he met Bill.

 

“You come in peace Seeker?” A voice whispered through the mists so suddenly that Ford stumbled back, fists raised in defense.

 

“Who's there?” He demanded.

 

“A thousand pardons Seeker. But not for my caution. The stench of your master is not one easily welcomed in any realm. And yet destruction is not in your wake. My own master is curious about your wants. So I ask again. Do you come in peace?”

 

Disembodied voices was by far not the strangest thing in Ford’s experiences. “I-Yes. I do. I am looking for the Atheneum. I was told I could learn things there. Just tell me if I’m nearing it.”

 

The voice chuckled. “Near you certainly are, more than you are clearly aware.”

 

The mist fell away from Ford and he was able to see his surroundings clearly for the first time. The path continued just as he expected, not perfectly straight, but in a general forward direction that told him it was laid by hand rather than by any machine. The grass and trees were green and a few odd shades of blue, the flecks of light on them continued to blink as if nothing changed.

 

The sky was a myriad of colors, pinks and purples and dark blues, as if during twilight just as the stars appeared. And the stars were numerous, like small pin pricks in fabric. And while he couldn’t be sure, Ford thought he could see faint lines between them, connecting the stars into strange and ornate constellations.

 

He did not try to stop the tears that ran down his face this time. It was so much like _Earth_. No other dimension had moved him this way, but back then there had been an Earth to return too.

 

“Seeker?” The whispering voice came from behind Ford. “Minions of your master are not often so overwhelmed. And yet you are human. Mostly. How odd.”

 

“No, I’m sorry, I’m fine,” Ford said quickly as he wiped his eyes and turned around to face the speaker.

 

Ford wasn’t quite sure what he had expected a native of this pocket dimension to look like. But it certainly wasn’t this. The being was hunched over, gripping a gnarled staff which hung an iron lantern off a short chain. They looked wolfish but spindly, as if their skeleton was made of sticks over which a blanket of white fur had been stretched. The body was loosely wrapped in bandages, or perhaps ribbons, including over the eyes. They appeared to be about Ford’s height, but he had a feeling that if they stood up straight they would tower over him.

 

At first Ford thought they looked fairly weak, but then he got a glimpse of the teeth and claws, long and sharp and spotted with red stains, and he remembered that he wasn’t welcomed at first because he followed Bill. This being would easily kill him without a thought if he misstepped.

 

“Is this your dimension? You can call me Ford. I’m looking for the Atheneum.”

 

“You have long found the Atheneum.” The being gave a dry hacking laugh. “This pocket dimension is not my honor, no. My master holds dominion. I am a mere bookkeeper, and I will be your guide.”

 

Ford raised an eyebrow. “Bookkeeper? You have books here?”

 

“And many things besides. Spore dreams, basins of the last few hydrographs...but books have useful properties. Do not think they are lesser simply due to your former heritage.” The bookkeeper walked past Ford. “Come and tell me what it is you seek Seeker Ford.”

 

Ford trotted to catch up. “Well, Bill Cipher, my master as you apparently know, gave me some of his powers.”

 

“Ah,” the bookkeeper said knowingly. “And you be wanting the rest of it?”

 

Ford frozen in place, the words rang like a gong.

 

The _rest_ of it? The _rest_ of Bill’s power. “What?” The thought was alien to his mind, but it burrowed in and now echoed throughout his brain. “N-n-what?”  He couldn’t even form the words to deny it.

 

The bookkeeper leaned patiently on his staff. “It is an often thing. Minions are never satisfied. I see your master still thinks himself above common lessons.”

 

The words were still rattling in his mind, refusing him focus, so Ford latched onto what he could to pull himself out of the mental spiral. “What are you talking about. What do you know about Bill?” He hoped he came off as inquisitive rather than threatening.

 

At the very least the bookkeeper didn’t lash out with his claws and instead motioned for Ford to follow before speaking. “An upstart Flatlander who learned more than he was meant. No crime there, no. The Sphere was to blame, but gone now. Too late to change. Those in power offered no hate make no mistake. Teaching your master was what they wanted, let him live with his new powers and do good. But a free triangle sees even wise advice as shackles.” The bookkeeper shook his head sadly as they walked down the path.

 

Ford felt like he was going to faint. Nothing this bookkeeper was saying made any sense to him. Bill was powerful. Bill was feared. Bill was a _god_. “No no, you got it wrong. Bill is the most powerful being in the multiverse.”

 

“So _he_ says.” The bookkeeper seemed amused. “No one to say otherwise to you? Hm. Disruptive he has been yes. But disruptive is not power.”

 

At some point the path had led into a forest of trees that seemed to reach into the stars. Their trunks were so thick the Mystery Sha- his home could have fit inside one. The leaves above their heads still blinked their rhythmic pattern and the air felt calm and peaceful. But Ford had other things on his mind. “Not power? He is a god! He destroyed my dimension.”

 

“Oh? A god now he says?” The bookkeeper turned to face Ford, the lantern shining bright through its filigree panels. “I mourn your dimension. Think me not cold. But destruction is easy. Non-gods destroy. Creation....creation is a hard act. Your master can not create. He is no god. And he toys with power he doesn’t know but could have known.” He tilted his head. “So I ask, do you still fear him?”

 

Ford wished he could look the bookkeeper in the eyes rather than at their covering. “I don’t know.”

 

The bookkeeper pivoted, the light of his lantern shining on the nearest face of the tree next to them. Ford saw that the trunk wasn’t whole, but was carved into shelves. And on those shelves, row after row after row all the way into the sky, were the black bare spines of endless books.  


“Then find out.” The bookkeeper said, his voice strong and almost demanding. “Learn what your master would not, then learn your fears.”

 

Ford stared wide eyed at the books. He reached out and gently touched one. Its felt pleasantly cool and soft, like it was bound with a velvety fabric. Pulling it out he saw there was no title on the front either. Opening it up though his eyes were met with a swarm of moving text in a language he had never seen before. And yet he found that he could understand what he was looking at.

 

“Take as you wish,” the bookkeeper said as he walked away. “Bring back as you will. No harm can touch them.”

 

Ford hugged the book to his chest. “Thank you.”

 

The bookkeeper gave a wave of acknowledgment without turning or slowing. “I shall find you at your return.”

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Ford felt like he was in the book forest for hours. Everything he touched was new and interesting. He wanted to read it all. And he might have imagined it, but it was like the books themselves wanted to be read. They practically jumped into his hands and opened their pages to exactly what it was Ford wanted to see. It would have been easy to just stay here forever.

 

But Bill would notice his absence sooner or later if he hadn’t already.

 

Ford would have liked to take back as many books as he could carry, but he wasn’t sure the bookkeeper was being literal when he said that no harm could touch the books. And he certainly did not want to know what sort of damage fees the master of the Atheneum charged.

 

So he picked one book that seemed the most relevant. While the spine and cover were just as blank as any of the other books, the spirling words on the inside told him that it was “Manifestations of the Eternal I: The Final Lectures of Scholar Brunhan”. He had flipped through it before and it seemed like it was a good starting point, especially since a lot of the other books referenced it (or refuted it) heavily.

 

He drew the portal symbol in reverse like he had been told and, with only a hesitation to give goodbye glances to trees and books, he stepped through.

 

The air immediately felt different. Dry and still and dead, not at all alive and flowing like it was at the the Atheneum. Was the Fearamid always like this?

 

“ _Sixer!!_ ”

 

Ford spun around, the book behind his back, to face the displeased eye of Bill.

 

“Where were you?!” Bill demanded. “One minute I could sense your presence and the next: Poof! Gone!” Bill punctuated by turning into a puff cloud as if demonstrating what Ford had done. “Absolutely impossible! I should be able to sense you anywhere in this dimension!”

 

Ford’s brain put a mental check next to the fact that Bill described his power using the term “should” instead of “can”. Just the slightest sliver of doubt coming from a so called god. It was enough that Ford wasn’t afraid to tell the truth.

 

“I left obviously. I went to the Atheneum.” He held up the black book to show he wasn’t tricking Bill.

 

Bill’s form exploded into a red fury, taking up more space than the Fearamid hallway should have allowed. He peered down at his minion with a burning black eye. “HOW?”

 

Ford backed away from the radiating heat. Behind Bill he could see the shocked faces of the Henchmaniacs, including the scared face of Kryptos.

 

“I figured it out, just like you _told_ me to do. Remember?”

 

Bill visibly deflated. “Um, right. Of course,” he said in a way that convinced Ford that Bill _had_ forgotten. “Good job there Sixer, I can always count on you to follow my orders.” He gave Ford an awkward pat on the head. “So what have you got there?”

 

Ford felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He should have hidden it in his coat instead of waving it around so much. “It’s just a book.”

 

Bill studied the cover. Or at least tried too. Ford noticed that Bill’s eye kept _missing_ the book, as if he couldn’t look directly at it. “I see…” Bill said unconvincingly. “What’s it about? Gotta be something worthwhile to leave my perfect Fearamid,” Bill’s voice dropped to dangerous levels.

 

“A study on the local time stream of Tarkir and the influence of outside forces,” Ford said easily, remembering a random book he had looked at earlier. “Just some light reading.”

 

Bil scoffed and rolled his eye. “Ugh. Boring. What else could I have expected. You used to be exciting Sixer.” He turned to the henchmaniacs. “Come on guys, get this party started. We have to make up for the nerd over here.”

 

For once Ford was relieved that Bill thought he was too dull to pay attention too. At least that meant he didn’t see Ford as a threat.

 

_‘Am I a threat?’_

 

“Wow Ford,” Kryptos said interrupting Ford’s train of thought. “I can’t believe you didn’t rat me out to Bill. Thank  you.”

 

Ford just shrugged. “You helped me out so I owed you one. How did you know about the Atheneum anyways?”

 

“When you are first getting into the third dimension there isn’t a lot of safe places you can depend on. The Atheneum was one of them. But Bill didn’t like it after awhile, felt it was too constraining. Glad you liked it though. Well I better get going before Bill notices I’m gone. Enjoy the book.” Kryptos waved as he headed to the dance floor.

 

That left Ford alone with his book. He figured it would be awhile before Bill got tired of ignoring him and that would give him plenty of time to get some reading done.

 

He found a corner far from the music, near a window to nothingness, and began to learn.

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“Sixeeer! This is boring!” Bill whined as he hovered around Ford, a martini glass sloshing around in his hand that he had evidently been drinking heavily from.

 

Ford ground his teeth as he tried to keep reading. He was almost done with the book, though he was still shocked that Bill had waited this long before coming to bother him. But apparently Pyronica had mixed an unusually strong batch of time punch that keep everyone sloshed.

 

It still would have been nice to finish uninterrupted, he was learning quite a bit so far. Not enough to make a difference for his family, but it was a better foundation than what Bill had give him.

 

“Tell ya what Fordsie,” Bill floated to the other side of Ford, his hat askew. “Why don’t you put that bit of paper down and I show you what I’ve done with the penthou- who turned off the lights?!” Bill flailed drunkenly as his hat drooped down over his eye.

 

Ford didn’t even try to suppress a groan and eyeroll. To think this was once his beloved muse. “No thanks Bill, not with how much you’ve drunk.”

 

Bill righted his hat and glowered. “I ain’t drunk, gods don’t get drunk!” Offended, Bill started to upturn his glass just above Ford’s vision. “Oopsie~”

 

His time punch splashed harmlessly on the floor.

 

“What the-?” He tried again, but yet again his drink was wasted on the bricks.

 

“Something wrong Bill?” Ford couldn’t help the slight smugness in his voice.

 

Bill’s only response was to upend his entire drink on Ford’s hair, leaving the glass on his head as Bill floated off, literally steaming.

 

Ford did not even care. His head and part of his coat might have been sopping wet but his book was clean and dry. Not even the drips from his hair landed on the pages. It was as if it had a force field that prevented any marring. The bookkeeper had been right after all.

 

But that still left Ford feeling uncomfortable. “I guess I can test this out.” He set the book down and took a deep breath. He felt for the threads that crisscrossed the dimension, the strands that held everything together, the fabric of reality itself. A slight pluck at one end could send ripples of effect down the line. You had to learn how to play them just right.

 

Ford would never call himself a musician, but his mind did find the strings that belongs to his hair and to the time punch and the martini glass. He mentally touched one and then another as lightly as he could. They vibrated gently and things changed.

 

The time punch vanished from his hair and coat, leaving him dry, and the martini glass was sitting on the window sill as if Bill himself had set it down.

 

Ford rubbed his hair and examined his coat, feeling giddy. “It worked, I can’t believe it.”

 

He was learning.

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The hand drawn portal dropped him somewhere different in the Atheneum. Instead of a cobblestone path through fields and trees, he now stepped out onto a white sandy beach with gently rolling waves in the most pristine blue he had ever seen in any dimension. The water was so pure that even from his place on the sand he could clearly see the patterns of sea glass that made up the ocean floor.

 

The scent of salt though stirred something in him. Though the air was cleaner than New Jersey could ever dream of, it was enough to bring back a promise almost a lifetime ago when he and his brother were small children with big dreams.

 

_“What if we switched places?_

 

Ford heard Stan’s voice so clearly that he actually spun around, expecting to see his twin standing behind him. But there was nothing but sand and blinking beachgrass.

 

“Focus Ford,” he said to himself as he straightened out his coat, the pit in his stomach growing as he felt the fabric glide over his chitin. “Can’t worry about the past when you are busy with the present.”

 

“Seeker Ford has returned, have learned much in your readings have you?”

 

Ford smiled, glad for the distraction of the bookkeepers arrival. “I have, though it hasn’t done anything for my portals accuracy,” he said in jest, trying to lighten his own mood more than for making small talk with the wolfish bookkeeper.

 

The bookkeeper leaned heavily on his staff and smiled a toothy grin. “As is with little practice. You come for more books?”

 

Ford took out his current book from its pocket inside his coat and handed to the bookkeeper. “Yes, this one was very enlightening, I’ve already made some progress.”

 

The bookkeeper didn’t take the book, instead he let his lantern’s light fall upon it and the book vanished from Ford’s hands. “Many more of that I can assure you.” The bookkeeper then paused, his covered eyes seemed to be looking over Ford’s shoulder towards the water.

 

Ford turned and saw a form over the horizon, a being that looked to be drawn out of wisps of clouds that took up almost the entire sky itself. The outline seemed female, dressed in a short tunic and bow, like an Artemis who had retreated to a new realm once Earth had been destroyed.

 

“What- Who is that?”

 

The bookkeeper lightly touched his hand over his heart and made a slight bow. “My master, the creator of this realm.”

 

Ford gapped as the cloud wisps seemed to turn and regard Ford. Whatever she saw in him was no threat and she turned away, continuing on her path.

 

“What is her name?”

 

“Impolite is it for one minion to name the master of another. But you may refer to her as the Librarian. Come, there are many books waiting.”

 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean- I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to-” Ford stumbled over an apology as he trotted to catch up with the bookkeeper. Now that he thought of it, the bookkeeper never used Bill’s name when he was here last. “What about you. Do you have a name?”

 

The bookkeeper only slowed a little bit to allow Ford to catch up. “Yes. Maybe someday you will know. As of now, I am a mere guide and servant for your needs.”

 

The sand gave way to grasses as they left the ocean behind. In the distance Ford could see snowcapped mountains, rivers, and forests under the twilight sky. “The Librarian really created all of this?” He could not even imagine Bill creating anything, let alone beauty like this.

 

The bookkeeper nodded. “Nothing remains still in the multiverse, everything changes. And yet, someone will always record it. Other Atheneums exist before, and others exist after. All different with different masters, but knowledge is the same everywhere.”

 

Evidently thirty years of travel had only shown Ford a small fraction of the multiverse, every time the bookkeeper spoke he heard something brand new. To think he could have spent that  entire time comfortable in a library dimension rather than always on the run.

 

The bookkeeper led Ford back to the tree he had taken him to before, at least Ford thought it was the same tree. And like before black spined books lined the shelves up and up until they were out of sight.

 

“What do you fear,” the bookkeeper asked suddenly. “Your master still?”

 

Ford was slightly startled by the question until he remembered their conversation the last time they were in the forest. “Maybe a little,” he admitted. But he didn’t elaborated, he just wanted to read.

 

The bookkeeper lingered only long enough to make sure Ford did not have any other questions before leaving.

 

Arms already full of new books, Ford didn’t even notice him go.

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Ford fell into a comfortable pattern of traveling between the Atheneum and the Fearamid, ferrying black books between the two. At first Bill was annoyed that his minion was able to travel so freely, but after Ford read him a passage about micro-laws in the 11th dimension Bill loudly exclaimed that it was probably for the best that Ford goes off and being boring somewhere else and only comes back when he decides to be fun.

 

Ford couldn’t be more relieved, especially since Bill never corrected him about the lies he read about those micro-laws. He could do what he wished right under Bill’s eye.

 

However he figured he should try to be ‘fun’ once in awhile to keep Bill appeased. It not only kept him on Bill’s good side, but also allowed him a front row seat in how Bill used his powers.

 

“Whatsa matter Kryptos? Only a few million years and you already forgot how to walk on your head?” Bill’s mocking laughter echoed through the throne room.

 

“Haha, you were always a jokester,” Kryptos said through gritted teeth. He was balanced on the angle that formed the top of his head, his arms and legs flailing uselessly. No matter how he rocked, he could not right himself. It was as if Bill had changed Kryptos’ personal gravity.

 

In fact, from what Ford could see, that’s exactly what Bill did. A tug on a string and a pull on another had done the trick in keeping Kryptos upside down. It was effective no doubt, but there was a certain...lack of finesse. Bill’s powers came from sharp tugs on only a certain set of strings despite Ford clearly seeing that a light pluck of a different string would have done the job just as well without damaging the threads themselves. Was that why Bill destroyed every dimension he took over? He was too rough with his powers? He held no regard for the wellbeing of the strings he pulled?

 

It all said to Ford that Bill was self taught in his powers, he never had any guide to avoid bad habits, nor was he aware of the finer points outside his tried and true set. Rough handed, repetitive, never combining resonances, and certainly lacking patience made Bill look, and Ford knew this was ironic considering he’s only had light practice with books as his guide, _amateurish_.

 

That must have been why Bill declined in formally teaching Ford. Not only did Bill not have all the answers, but he figured it out on his own and must have felt that was good enough for his minion. That made Ford doubly resolved to not share the true nature of the black books. Not that Bill was able to interact with them in any way it seemed.

 

Ford sipped on his time punch as he continued to watch the henchmaniacs laugh along with Bill. He might have felt bad about the diamond shape, but not bad enough to show his hand. He raised his glass whenever Bill glanced his way and that seemed enough to satisfy the triangle.

 

‘I could do better,’ Ford thought as he watched as the dimensional strings fray even more under Bill’s pressure. ‘Only a fraction of his power and I already could do better.’

 

_“And you be wanting the rest of it?”_

 

He paused in his drink as he heard the bookkeepers voice going through his head.

 

“Maybe a little,” he murmured into his glass as he continued to watch the threads break.

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Despite his multiple trips to the Atheneum, Ford was still lacking in accuracy with his portals. He was getting closer, the book forest was usually within his line of sight, but he had yet to actually port into the forest itself.

 

This time he landed in a field of what he could only assume was wheat.

 

Normally Ford would have been more than content to wait for the bookkeeper to fetch him in order to lead him to the correct tree, but something about this field filled Ford will dread and made his chitin itch. He couldn’t quite place why, there was a sense of a dream from a lifetime ago, but it was faded in his memory. All he knew was that he wanted to leave.

 

He could see the shadows of the forest in the distance and started to make his way there, the bookkeeper could catch up on his own.

 

Moving through the field was easier said than done. Instead of brushing past the long wheat, it felt more like he was wading through deep water. He struggled going more than a few feet before he couldn’t move at all, his feet were tangled and the wheat clung to him like it was made of burrs.

 

“Oh for the love of…” Ford growled as he stopped to pull the wheat off of him. They came off easily, but were just as easily replaced.

_“What if we switched places?”_

 

Ford paused. That did not come from a memory this time. It was very clearly Stan’s voice in the wind, as if imitated from the rustling wheat.

 

_“I’ve practiced being you for 30 years.”_

 

“Oh no. Nonnono.” Ford struggled against the plant matter as more voices from the past came from the field.

 

_“I could fool that triangle into going into my head and they you hit me with the memory gun.”_

 

This was the last thing he needed to hear.

 

_“It would never work.”_

 

“Bookkeeper where are you!?” Ford shouted, loud enough to drown out the rest of the conversation. “Damn it, get me out of here!”

 

There was a sudden glow of light from an iron lantern, and the voices died and the wheat released Ford. “Apologies! Many apologies Seeker Ford! No intention of such distress!” The bookkeeper bowed over and over again. “This field will be smoke, no memories will be retained.”

 

Ford brushed off his clothes, making sure nothing had stuck to him. So this was some sort of memory recording...field? He did not relish the idea of such plants recording his memories but if the bookkeeper was going to make sure it was all burned, then fine. Well, sort of fine. “Where were you?!”

 

The bookkeeper bowed again. “The long path to avoid other keeper and guest. Would not do to break another’s solitude,” he shook his head solemnly. “Would not do.”

 

This surprised Ford. He never realized until now that he had never seen another person let alone another bookkeeper in all his visits even though logically speaking his bookkeeper guide couldn’t possibly manage the entire pocket dimension. No, instead it was specifically organized in such a way to keep him from crossing paths with anyone else. He didn’t really have the entire Atheneum to himself. And for some reason that aggravated him.

 

“Well, you’re here now. I was hoping you could show me some of the more advanced books.”  


The light from the bookkeepers lantern caused the wheat before them to bend, creating a straight path to the forest. “Oh? Plan you have?”

 

Ford made sure to walk as close to the center of the path as he could without running the bookkeeper over. “I’ve been thinking of what to do about my family. I want to free them but with my dimension destroyed they have nowhere to go. And everything I’ve read says I can’t recreate it no matter how much power I have. And I can’t travel dimensions freely.”

 

The bookkeeper nodded as he listened. “Truth.”

 

“BUT Weirdmageddon had opened up rifts. And Earth has so many parallel dimensions. And during Weirdmageddon time has no meaning.” He got more and more excited as he spoke. “So all I have to do is find another Earth dimension and free them there.”

 

The bookkeeper gave Ford a side-eye. “And your master?”

 

Ford was hoping he wouldn’t have to talk about that. It was one thing to think but another to say out loud, even here in a completely different dimension. “It will be fine. My family is the focus.”

 

The bookkeeper seemed less than impressed. “You know meeting yourself on another plane?”

 

“I do know. So I would have to find a dimension were Bill thinks he won. Maybe one where I idiotically followed Stan’s plan and got everyone killed. I could defeat Bill and released my family and no one would be the wiser.”

 

They had by now entered the shadows of the forest. “Hmmm,” the bookkeeper seemed to hesitate to say something. “No one? Hmmmmm. No. Would know, would feel wrong. Not at home. And not telling?” He shook his head. “Fear to lose pride?”

 

“P-pride?” Fors sputtered. “It’s not pride! They just don’t need to know what happened. It’s not important! I’m the one doing the footwork to get them back! As far as they will know I defeated Bill and stopped Weirdmaggedon on my own! _Stanley wasn’t right!!_ ”

 

Ford’s hot anger suddenly froze over as he heard his shouts echo through the trees. He realized he probably should not be shouting in a library, even one as large as the Atheneum. The bookkeeper himself looked very unamused, his arms crossed and his lantern light noticeably dim.

 

“What should I do then?” Ford ask quieter.

 

The bookkeeper tapped his feet on the ground, displeased. “Should? I’m not here for _Should_. I’m here for knowledge. Actions are yours.”

 

“Right, of course.”

 

“Find what you wish here.” The bookkeeper pointed to the nearest tree, different from the one Ford had been previously patronizing. “Oh and Seeker Ford,” he said over his shoulder as he walked away. “Your master feared restraint. Do not repeat his mistake by ignoring your fear.”

 

Ford just pulled a book off the shelf.

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The so called music was blaring through the throne room, again. For whatever reason Bill and the henchmaniacs had not tired of the playing the same tracks over and over again. They danced the same dances, drank the same drinks, ate the same snacks, played the same games… Ford hypothesized that this was a side effect of the lack of time. Every party was the first party and everything was new and fresh. He couldn’t figure why it wasn’t affecting him the same way. Perhaps it had to do with his nature as a human, maybe only humans were susceptible to stimuli fatigue that was separate from the perception of time. He wished he could step into the Atheneum to read if any research on this had ever been done. But he needed to focus.

 

He had a plan.

 

Risky? Yes. But Ford felt like he had learned enough to make his move. And if he was wrong, well, he doubted he’d be around long enough to realize it.

 

Bill was laughing from his throne at the antics of his minions, namely Kryptos yet again being dunked into the time punch, something which the diamond seemed to be genuinely enjoying for once if his rapidly increasing drunkenness was any indication.

 

During this, Ford slid closer and closer to the throne. He wanted to get Bill’s attention and Bill’s attention only.

 

It didn’t take long for Bill to notice Ford and pat the edge of the throne, inviting him to come up and sit. Unlike before where he was forced to climb Ford gracefully, and maybe a little bit showoff-y, floated up in the air and landed gently next to Bill.

 

“Well well well Fordsie, look who has been practicing flying. I knew you could handle it.” Bill actually looked pleased, perhaps even with a small level of pride.

 

Ford didn’t read too much into it, since Bill gifted him these powers he probably felt that Ford using them well reflected positively on him. “What can I say Bill? Flying does give a lot more freedom than walking.”

 

As expected the word freedom made Bill’s eye crinkle into his own version of a smile. “Glad you are seeing things my way. I got hand it to you Sixer, I thought you were growing boring and dull and that I’d have to do something to change that. But you’ve been hanging around the parties more often, had enough of those dull books?”

 

“You know my number Bill. Books are alright but they aren’t as exciting as your parties.”

 

Bill’s golden glow got slightly brighter at that. “See, I knew you were exciting deep down.”

 

Ford smiled and lowered his voice to a husky whisper. “Ya know Bill, I’ve been thinking. Why don’t we ditch these losers,” he gestured vaguely towards the henchmaniacs, “and I can show you how exciting I really am?”

 

Bill froze, stunned.

 

“Like in the old days,” Ford continued. He had hoped it would take just that one line to get Bill alone but he had prepared statements in case he took more prodding. “Remember how I used to worship you? It’s been awhile hasn’t it? I kinda miss doing that.”

 

“Oh hoho I do remember!” Bill said gleefully, rubbing his hands together. “And you’re right, I haven’t gotten a proper worshiping in ages. Those numbskulls down there are fun but they don’t give me the attention I deserve. Let’s go Sixer.”

 

And just like that the throne room faded away into Bill’s penthouse suit.

 

The room was laid out in just the same way from the last time Bill brought Ford here. The fire was still roaring in the fireplace, the couch was still made of skin, and the piano was tastefully appointed on the wall. The only major difference was the addition of a bed with red satin and a sheer canopy on the other end of the room. It looked like Bill had prepared.

 

But more interesting to Ford was how Bill got them up here. The threads for translocation seemed simple enough though they were particularly thin, Ford would have to use them carefully in the future. And he could sense that this penthouse was at the very peak of the Fearamid. He always figured that was the case but it was nice to have confirmation.

 

Bill summoned another martini glass full of time punch and sat at the edge of the bed as casually as possible. “So Sixer, its just us now. What do you say you show me some of your changes? Any wings yet?”

 

Right, he’d have to do this eventually. Inside Ford was less than pleased but he still fumbled his with coat buttons, his face just the right shade of pink.

 

“I um, I don’t think any have come in yet Bill,” Ford said as he let his coat fall off his arms and pool around his feet. Not the first time he was grateful that his powers let him keep his clothing clean or Bill would have had a fit about respecting his presence.

 

Bill watched and took an appreciative sip of his drink. “I’m sure I can give you a little examination just to make sure.”

 

With his coat off Ford worked on his shirt, but he teased a little first, running his hands down the red fabric to the hem just above his belt. He made sure he was looking at Bill during this, let him know this show was for him. He didn’t wait too long though, Bill was never known for his patience. So after a beat Ford pulled his turtleneck off in one movement.

 

He tried not to wince at seeing himself. The chitin now covered most of his torso and shoulders, moving down his arms. It was a pale brown color with an iridescent shimmer that made Ford think of oil on dirty water.

 

“Now now, don’t make such a face Fordsie,” Bill said from the bed, his finger running over the rim of the glass, leaving behind what Ford hoped was salt. “Or I might start to think you don’t appreciate what I give you.” He took another sip.

 

Crap, not what Ford wanted. “No no, Bill, I’m just...still not used to it yet.” He ran his hands over the chitin as if trying to convince one of them he wasn’t disgusted by it. It felt incredibly smooth, like a highly polished gem, and harder than his human skin. At the very least it could offer him more protection.

 

“There we go Sixer, you like your new body right?”

 

“O-of course, I like everything you’ve given me.”

 

Bill’s eye narrowed as he chuckled. “Then let’s see how much. Get the rest of your clothes off.”

 

Ford obeyed immediately. He sat at the piano bench and lifted his leg to take his boots off, trying to give Bill a good view of his thighs while he did so. Once they were cast aside, Ford stood in the center of the room again and slowly undid his belt, rolling his hips as he did so and looking at Bill in what he hoped was a seductive manner. He let the pants drop and he was relieved to find that the chitin hadn’t grown far past his hips aside for some small amounts on his upper thighs.

 

Bill took a moment to appraise Ford’s naked body. “Looking good Sixer, like when you were young, no old man flab anywhere.”

 

Ford risked the slightest glance down. He had missed that detail. Was that the result of his slow transformation or his powers?

 

Bill took a leisurely sip of his punch before speaking again. “Now, you are supposed to be worshiping me. Show me how much you like this body I gave you. Kneel on the floor and pleasure yourself, and don’t forget to say the name of the one who gave it all to you.”

 

It might have been a little humiliating but Ford was willing to live with that at this point. He got on his knees and took his member in his hand. He used the slightest tug on the strings to cut to the chase and make himself instantly hard. “Bill…” the name escaped his lips unexpectedly at the sudden rush of arousal.

 

Bill looked incredibly pleased. “Do continue. Do it like when you were younger, yeah that’s it, nice and slow.”

 

Ford did as he was ordered, stroking himself achingly slow. Maybe his trick to arouse himself was a little premature. He focused on his breathing, in and out, in time with his strokes. Keep it even, with a slight squeeze at the head before heading down again. How long had it been since he had done this? Too long. He moaned out Bill’s name again.

 

He adjusted his knees so he was spread more, his other hand between his thighs, pressing against his entrance, he couldn’t help himself. But Bill apparently thought he should.

 

“No no, none of that. I know you are too much of a cock hungry slut to not blow your load at the first thrust. I’m not going to have this worship session end that soon. So be patient.”

 

Biting the inside of his mouth, Ford forced his hand up to his chest, running over his new smooth skin. It felt good to touch, his fingers exploring his new body as his other hand picked up speed. He touched his neck and his fingers found their way to his mouth. He breathed Bill’s name as he ran his fingers over his lips and then pulled them inside, sucking down on them as if they were Bill’s, his hips now bucking.

 

Bill’s cane pounded the floor with such force that Ford was shocked out of the moment and almost fell back.

 

“What did I say about ending too quickly my pet. Look, you are already leaking.” He pointed to the pearls of precum that were already dripping from Ford. “Come over here. Hands and knees.”

 

Ford’s cock ached, wanting to be touched more, but he did was he was told. He crawled across the carpet, some of his precum staining the fabric, until he was at the foot of the bed before Bill.

 

Bill held out his foot. “Kiss.”

 

Ford took Bill’s foot in his hand and kissed the sides, moving up the leg. As he did so he could see thick black tentacles out the corner of his eye. They gently surrounded him and lifted him up onto the bed until he was straddled above Bill.

 

Ford kept kissing Bill over his golden bricks but stopped at a sudden gasp as he felt one of the tentacles press into him. “Ahh- Bill…”

 

“And you were afraid I forgot what my favorite worshipper liked,” Bill said amused, laying on the bed under Ford, his hands behind his head as if he was the most relaxed being in the entire dimension.

 

Ford moaned as another tentacle force itself into him, and then another and another and still more. He wasn’t able to focus on how many of Bill’s tentacles were inside him, they slide in and out at their own maddening rhythm. Two tentacles wrapped around his wrists, pulling upright, and another around his throat, slowly tightening.

 

Ford thought he was going to lose his mind. “B-Bill-aaaah!” He pressed down against the wriggling tentacles his moans turning into loud exclamations of the triangle’s name. “I can’t hold- Bill please.” He struggled to speak. “I’m gonna cum...please!”

 

Bill though was enjoying the show. “How long can I keep you like this I wonder?”

 

Ford gritted his teeth, his whole body feeling like he was on fire. “Bill please!”

 

Bill just watched from his place on the sheets and if time still meant anything he would said he let the clock tick. He liked Ford like this, helpless and totally at his whim. Ford couldn’t even say his name anymore though it was adorable how he tried. The mostly-human’s head and thrown back and his moans came out scratchy, his throat was already too worn out to be used. It was a good example of just how deep humans could get into this worship business, that was hard to find.

 

But Bill did have other things to do. “Okay Fordsie, I think that’s enough worship for now.” He gripped Ford’s member and gave it a single stroke.

 

Ford’s orgasim arrived like a boom of thunder, reverberating through his entire body with a strangled cry. The force was so strong he fell limp against Bill’s bricks.

 

“There there my pet,” Bill cooed as he stroked Ford with his clean hand, the other he offered for Ford to lick off. “You were always one of my best wor- wait.”

 

Bill felt a little off, as if leaking somehow. But that was impossible.

 

Ford pushed himself up, looking down at Bill. Despite the sheen of sweat over his body he suddenly didn’t look very tired.

 

Bill’s eye narrowed. “What is this? Some sort of prank?”

 

Ford’s mouth split into a wicked grin and smoke started to pour off of Bill, heading directly to Ford.

 

“What are you doing!?”

 

“Oh this?” Ford said casually. “I just felt maybe I deserved a little more than a mere fraction of your power.”  
  
Bill’s eye narrowed and glowed red. “How dare you! Get off of me!” He tried to shove Ford away.

 

But Ford slammed Bill back down onto the bed. “I felt maybe I deserved _all of it_.”  

 

“You insignificant _insect!_ HOW DARE YOU!” He gathered his power to fry Ford on the spot.

 

But nothing happened. Ford remained there, whole and smiling. The chitin started to grow haphazardly over Ford’s body, bunching into scales as it became overcrowded or bursting into spikes at his joints and the top of his head.

 

Bill’s eye widened as the implication finally dawned on him. “Y-you heretic! Traitor! You betrayed me!” He struggled against Ford’s impossible grip but he felt his bricks soften and ooze between Ford’s fingers.

 

Ford leaned down closer till he was nose to eye with Bill. “One good betrayal deserves another.” He then bared his teeth and bit down. Wings like glass and filigree burst from his back when he swallowed.

 

Bill screamed but Ford ignored the sound. He was too busy claiming his prize. His teeth grew long and sharp as they tore at the bricks. A hunger overcame Ford unlike any he had ever known. It wasn’t for nourishment for Bill had none, but for power. It was all there, his for the taking.

 

Bill thrashed as best he could, yelling for 8-Ball, Pyronica, even Kryptos to get up here. But he had kept the penthouse so secluded it did no good. He tried to pull at the string but every time he found Ford had caused another vibration to negate them, or pulled them out his reach, and in one case severed it entirely.

 

Ford continued to gorge himself, bricked crunching between his morals. There was no flavor to Bill, it was like airy cotton candy, it looked big but dissolved to nothing in your mouth. But there was power there, lots of power. Each bite made Bill smaller and smaller. Until finally there was a tiny little triangle left on the sheets.

 

Ford looked down with amusement, golden ichor dripping down his chin. “That’s it? That is the flatlander known as Bill that cause all this trouble?” Ford laugh was deeper than ever and echoed through the penthouse. “Oh you weak pathetic little thing. No wonder Sphere took pity on you.”

 

Bill’s tiny flatland form was struggling to stay alive, he was not built for three dimensions. But his eye widened just the same at the mention of Sphere.

 

“Begone Bill. It’s my turn now.” Ford breathed across Bill’s body.

 

It was too much for any flatlander to take and Bill crumbled into dust.

 

Ford wiped his chin and licked the remnants off his hand. He felt big, powerful, sure of himself. The fabric of reality stood out to him more than ever. So many strings, and now they had _color_. What he could do with that!

 

Finding a new dimension for his family suddenly seemed like child’s play. He could do whatever he wanted. Or at least most of it, according to the bookkeeper. Maybe he should seek out one of those tutors Bill had ignored.

 

But that would be for later. Right now he had to tidy up and set some minions straight on the score.

 

He waved a hand and Bill’s penthouse transformed into a spacious laboratory. Even with all of this power he knew there might still be more secrets in the multiverse that he would want to study. With another wave he changed the Fearamid itself. The bricks shifted and coiled in on themselves. In a few moments the pyramid was replaced by the shape of a six fingered hand.

 

He willed new clothes for himself, brown robes with a red front panel and not a stitch of triangle anywhere. He left enough space for his new spikes and wings. He almost considered a crown but the spikes on his head were more than intimidating enough.

 

And needed to be intimidating for what happened next. It would be the first real practice of his power and he didn’t want to risk a misstep if too many threads were broken.

 

He willed himself to the throne room and sat down on the throne itself. It was definitely uncomfortable, he’d have to do something about that later. He spared a moment to took at the banners hanging, where this all started. “Soon, I promise. You won’t know anything happened.” His current state would be easy to hide for a few decades at least.

 

He didn’t have any more time to contemplate his plans as there was a sound of running coming from the halls and then the entirely of Bill’s henchmaniacs crashed inside in a panic.

 

“What’s going on?” Keyhole ask, out of breath

 

“The entire Fearamid has gone topsy turvy!” Kyrptos yelled from underneath him.

 

Pyronica though was staring at the throne. “Where’s Bill?”

 

This was it. With the most careful of mental tugs, Ford sent a cascade of thread and strings vibrating. As one, the memories of the henchmaniacs warped and changed. Ford appeared in their past or areas became black and blank, but most importantly it was quick and thorough.

 

“Wait,” Pyronica rubbed her head. “What were we talking about again?”

 

Kryptos dislodged himself from under Keyhole. “Who's Bill?”

 

His question was met by shrugs from the other minions but with a sneer from Ford. He lept to his feet and his voice filled the entire throne room. “Bill is my enemy. I hope you all have enjoyed your party and are well rested because we are going after him. He took something from me and I will stop at nothing to get it back. We will come across many versions of him but we are looking for one in particular Bill in one particular dimension before we rest again. Are you ready!?”

 

If the henchmaniacs liked to party, they liked the prospect of a fight even more. A deafening cheer rang out from them.

 

“Yeah! We’re with you Boss!”

 

“We’ll even the score for ya!”

 

“Fight! Fight! Fight!”

 

“Come on everyone!” Kryptos shrill voice was louder than the rest. “Three cheers for the boss!”

 

Ford sat back on the throne with a grin as he was cheered. He had an army and they had their purpose. He would find a suitable dimension and free his family.

 

And Bill would never see him coming.

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The bookkeeper looked over the burnt field and then up at the Librarian and the sheaf of wheat bundled in her arm.

 

“You don’t agree?” She asked.

 

The bookkeeper shook his head. “I promised.”

 

The Librarian sighed heavily “These memories will be needed.”

 

“Seeker Ford did not consent-”

 

“Ford is not longer your responsibility Leiheim.”

 

Leiheim’s ears drooped and he clung to his staff, the light dim.

 

The Librarian knelt down in the burnt field, her cloud shape cooling the ember. “I know you take your job seriously. But you have been around long enough to know that someday someone will want to know the truth. And we can not censor the truth.”

 

“Yes mistress.” Leiheim finally said, resigned. No matter how he felt he could not direct the goddess.

 

She kissed his forehead, leaving the feeling of cool air despite the heat. “Now, I believe the forest needs your attention. Your guest had not been keen on reshelving.”

 

Leiheim bowed before his master and disappeared into the forests’ shadow.

  



End file.
